


I never really cared until I met you

by pepparketchup



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepparketchup/pseuds/pepparketchup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha and Jensen tries to deal with their feeling for each other and behave like normal friends, they really do. </p>
<p> <br/><em>If it's all I ever do</em><br/><em>I would give my heart to you</em><br/><em>And I will do it faithfully</em><br/><em>Until the end of time</em><br/><em>When they carve my name in stone</em><br/><em>At least I know they'll know</em><br/><em>That in this life I've made mistakes</em><br/><em>But I did one thing right</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever so please don't be too hard on me. Also English isn't my first language so feel free to correct grammar/spelling mistakes because I'd really like to improve.
> 
> And of course I don't know these people in real life and everything is 100% made up.

It was the end of another long day of filming and it had been a great day, no questions about that. Misha had a lot of close-up-footage to do and naturally - both Jared and Jensen made their very best (or worst) to mess with him. Jared with his silly faces and occasionally one foot in Misha's crotch, which really should have been inappropriate but it wasn't, and Jensen with his stupid winking and licking his lip… That really was the number one thing on the list of stuff that made Misha break in less than one second. Actually, it was the only thing that could make Misha break that way. Misha accepted the challenge though, of course, and felt tremendously pleased with himself when he switched to his Indian-Russian accent and made Jensen crack up in that full body laughter which in Misha’s point of view was the most perfect thing in the whole world. 

“Sure you don’t want a ride home?” Jared tried to close the zipper of his jacket with one hand as he fumbled around in the pocket of his jeans with the other. He made a noise of triumph as he managed to awkwardly pull out the keys to his car.  
“Nah man, I feel like getting some fresh air today.” Jensen said and Misha didn't need to think twice.  
“Yeah, me too.”  
“Okay, whatever guys. It’s your loss.” Jared grinned and stepped inside the car. 

This walk home had actually been a regular thing lately. Jared did always offer them a ride, of course, as the great friend that he was, and the official excuse was the same every day: They needed some fresh air. Jared never questioned it and Misha didn't know if he suspected anything or not, but to be fair - the excuse wasn't a lie, not at all, it just wasn't the whole truth. 

The atmosphere around them changed with every step they took and eventually they walked side by side without saying a word. The night was quiet except for the muffled music and voices coming from some party going on somewhere in the distance and they realized that it must be Friday now, or maybe even Saturday. They had been so busy lately that the days and weeks, even months, seemed to just merge down to one long day of shooting. 

Except for the one or two cars that drove past them, they were all alone. The air was cold, already feeling like winter and Misha tugged his scarf a little bit tighter as he cursed himself for not remembering to bring gloves. He glanced at Jensen but the other man refused to meet his gaze, purposely or not. Misha wanted to say something and even though he normally was a man of many words, he couldn't find the right ones for this occasion. Hell, he wasn't even sure that anyone had invented words for this occasion. 

“Wanna tell me?”  
“What?” Jensen snapped out of his own thoughts.  
“What are you thinking about?”  
“Oh… Well, nothing.” He behaved like Misha’s eyes would hurt him as he looked down and watched his own boots. He seemed to be unnecessarily concentrated on kicking as much gravel as possible and Misha reached out and grabbed his hand. The slightly taller man both tensed and relaxed at the same time, but still refused to look at him. They both had about 99 problems and this was certainly all of them. 

They reached Jensen’s apartment first. All the lights were turned off and it didn't look warm and welcoming at all. Misha walked him all the way to the doorstep.  
“Don’t you want to come inside with me?”  
“You know I do.” It was pretty much everything Misha ever wanted to do, but the one thing in the whole world that he couldn't do.  
“Yeah…” Jensen took a deep breath and bit his lower lip, but he didn't let go of Misha’s hand. Misha watched him closely, he had already memorized every little detail about the other man’s face but he couldn't help it. He knew everything, every little freckle, the dimple on his right cheek and the small wrinkles around his eyes. He would have done everything just to be able to give him one single kiss. 

“You can stay a little while, just for a beer or two.” Jensen tried to sound optimistic but unluckily for him Misha was an expert (self-proclaimed, but still) on that voice and the tone in it revealed that he didn't even believe in it himself.  
“It’s a bad idea.” They've had this discussion at least one million times before and the outcome hadn't changed, it was never going to change and it broke Misha’s heart.  
“Yeah, you’re right.”  
“I better leave.”  
“I know.”  
But neither of them made any movements to actually step away from each other and for a second Misha felt an awful lot like crying.  
“I’ve thought about it a lot, you know.” Jensen's fingers tightened around Misha's and he swallowed hard, almost like he was fighting some tears too.  
“Come again?”  
“Leaving her”  
“Oh." He would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but for a split second Misha felt happy about the fact that Jensen had been thinking about leaving his wife to be with him. But it was a dream though, nothing more. So he responded with "you’re an idiot and you definitely shouldn't.” because it was the right thing to do, and he did the best he could to ignore his own screaming heart.  
“Yeah I know, I love her.”  
“I know you do, we wouldn't still be here in the freaking cold if you didn't love her.” Misha tried to give him a smile but he wasn't sure that he knew how to do it anymore. It might just as well have turned out as a tortured grimace. But Jensen didn't notice though, since he still refused to look directly at him. Misha stepped forward and gave Jensen a quick hug. He didn't know how he managed the amount of will-power needed to break away but somehow he did. He knew he had to take the lead because if anything ever happened, Jensen wouldn't be able to forgive himself, he could never be unfaithful to his wife and if it was possible for Misha to love him more, that was the thing that did it. Misha’s open marriage made the situation a whole lot different from his point of view. Jensen had been on his short-list for years. The short list of people he had the permission to sleep with without asking his wife first, that is. The list that had one name: Jensen. Or, the list actually had two names but he wouldn't really like to sleep with Justin Bieber, even if he ever had the chance to. 

Jensen made a little noise when Misha stepped away, something between a sigh and a disappointed moan and Misha was sure that having his heart ripped out of his chest would hurt less.  
“I’m actually leaving now.” He wasn't going to lie - he needed to think twice before letting go of Jensen’s hand, but he knew that it was the only right thing to do.  
Jensen didn't answer but he lifted his eyes to meet Misha’s blue for the first time since they left the set. Misha never seemed to get used to the intensity of Jensen eyes, how the green seemed to pierce right through him and he didn't know whether he just wanted to hold the other man, whisper how much he love him and never let him go ever again, or if he simply wanted to fuck his brains out. Probably both, because they both sounded great.  
“Please Misha, just stay.”  
“Sweetheart, you know I…” Misha couldn't finish the sentence because the look in Jensen’s eyes made it impossible for him to remember how to form words.  
“Please Misha, I’m begging like a fucking teenage girl here.”  
“See you tomorrow, Jen.” Misha gave Jensen a quick kiss on the forehead and turned away. He was gone before Jensen could say anything more, because Misha knew that if Jensen had said just one more thing he would have convinced him to stay. 

They continued doing that for another couple of weeks until Misha finally gave in to the “we can hang out as friends you know” and followed Jensen upstairs. They sat a little too close to each other on the couch and the air was full of awkward tension but luckily Jensen’s phone rang and while he was busy talking to his wife, Misha saw the opportunity to leave before things got out of control. He grabbed his jacket, waved to Jensen (who looked both relieved and confused in an adorable mixture of facial expressions that made Misha’s heart go numb) and closed the door behind him. The ten minutes long walk to his own apartment was pure torture and he could never explain how he managed to not turn back. 

The next day was just like any other day, except that it wasn't. Jensen couldn't keep it together and Misha realized that things had gone too far. What had he been thinking anyway? Of course they couldn't hold hands and walk each other home forever, just like you can’t be friends with benefits without one part getting too much feelings for the other, you can’t be in love and getting your hopes up every night just to see them get crushed over and over again. 

They finished the day’s shooting earlier than planned and everyone took that as good news. The fact that it was Friday again and that they had the whole weekend off did everything a little bit better too.  
“Hey, want to drink some beer with me tonight? I’m picking Gen up at the airport at 10, but I’d really like some company until then.” Jared’s happy mood seemed to infect the other two a little and Jensen smiled at him, but Misha wasn't sure that getting drunk together with Jensen was a wise idea after all.  
“We haven’t really spent much time together lately.” Jared added, a little bit accusingly, when neither of them answered.  
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that Jay.” Jensen said. “I've just had a lot on my mind, that’s all.”  
“Anything you want to talk about?” Jared was a good friend, as always.  
“No, I’m just tired I guess.” Jensen smiled but Misha could see right through it. It was a good thing that Jared seemed to miss that, though.  
“Yeah, I totally understand that, it’s been a couple of hard months.” Jared nodded with a concerned look on his face.  
“Don’t worry about it Jay, I’m fine.” Jensen patted him on the back and started to walk towards the parking lot.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Definitely.”  
Jared didn't look convinced so Jensen added: “Hey, seriously, I’ll be fine. Maybe I just need a beer after all, are you guys coming or not?” Jared smiled and followed him. Jensen turned towards Misha and he didn't really know what to do, but Jensen gave him that adorable little smirk that he couldn't resist, so he gave in and followed them to Jared’s car.

They had a good time, actually. Jared was seated between them and Misha considered that as one of the greatest things in the history of everything because it was hard to get any tension going on with a 6’2 moose right in the middle. But just like every other good thing in life, it didn't last forever. Misha hadn't really been drinking any alcohol in a long time and tonight he overdid it just a little. He had just a few too many beers, nothing to worry about, except that it kinda was and at the time when Jared was leaving to pick his wife up, Misha should really just have gone home too.  
“Dude, you look awful.” Jared laughed. “It’s like 9.30, what are you, a teenager?”  
“Nah, just frisky as one” Misha smirked and tried to focus his eyes on Jared.  
“Whatever man. Do you need a ride home?”  
“No I’m fine. Nothing to worry about, I have Jensen right here.” He leaned towards Jensen and took a firm grip around his thigh. He actually did it just to avoid facepalming the table because leaning forward so suddenly made him dizzy. But when he thought about it, Jensen’s leg felt good and safe and warm, so he kept his grip. He didn't really feel Jensen tense but it was too late anyway.  
“Okay guys, see you on Monday!” And Jared left the building.  
Misha knew that it was something he wasn't supposed to do, still with his hand on Jensen's thigh, but he couldn't remember what, exactly. And when Jensen gripped around his wrist and pulled him towards the exit, he didn't remember how to breathe either. 

**Jensen’s POV.**

Deep down he knew that this was a bad idea but no one could blame him anymore. The beer made him reckless and he should really try to be the sensible one here, because of Misha’s condition and all, but just fuck that. Seriously, enough is enough. He called a cab and managed to get Misha inside it. The ride home didn't take long, not really, but to Jensen it felt like forever and when he finally dragged Misha’s half unconscious ass inside the apartment he felt like he’d earned a medal for even manage to pull it together for all this time.

He slammed Misha against the wall and pressed his whole body on top of him. The first touch of their lips was nothing like he’d ever expected their first kiss to be but he couldn't complain about it. It was basically tongue everywhere, a taste of beer and Misha and Jensen’s head felt too dizzy for this. deep down he knew that it was something he should remember, something important, but the way Misha responded and pressed harder against him, and the way he could feel Misha’s already hard cock against his own made it impossible for him to focus on anything else and he couldn't help the moan that escaped his mouth. 

“Fuck, Mish, I've waited for this for so long.” He tugged at the belt buckle and eventually got Misha’s jeans open, without taking his lips away from the other man for even a second.  
“Been wanting to touch you so bad.” He pulled the pants down enough to fit his hand inside them and stroke Misha’s cock through the boxers. The moan Misha made was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard and he actually believed that the sound alone could make him come in his pants. He started to pull the other man towards the bedroom, without taking the hand out of his pants or the mouth off his lips and eventually they managed to reach the bed. Jensen pushed Misha down on his back, tugged his pants and boxers off in one smooth movement and straddled him. He had been thinking about this moment since forever, how he would use every trick in the book to tease Misha, to make him beg and moan and eventually give him the best blow job of his life, but this wasn't the time for that. Jensen just didn't realize that it _really_ wasn't time for that. 

**Misha’s POV**

The way Jensen pushed him on the bed made his stomach twitch, and not in the good way. He really wanted to focus on Jensen and the fact that this was pretty much all he’d ever wanted, now when he had surrendered to it, but Misha’s body had different ideas and he pushed Jensen away, plunged himself to the side of the bed, reached out for _anything_ , found a trashcan and threw up in it. Just like that, classy as fuck. The movements of the bed told him that Jensen got up and Misha wanted to tell him to stay but he couldn't blame him for leaving. But just as he felt his stomach clench again, Jensen was by his side, stroking the hair out of his face and whispering calming words.

[to be continued]


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still sorry for my bad english.

Eventually Misha felt better and he didn't really remember how he fell asleep, but he woke up the morning after with one of the worst hangovers ever. Jensen was sleeping beside him, on his back with one arm stretched out under Misha’s pillow. He was only wearing a pair of boxers and the cover wasn't really covering anything as it was kicked down to the foot of the bed. This was the first time that Misha had ever seen Jensen without any clothes on and for a moment he felt embarrassed, like he was doing something wrong and perverted. He didn't really want to watch but no one could blame him and the sight was all he’d ever imagined, only better. His eyes trailed from Jensen’s face, down his neck, chest and perfect muscles and eventually came to rest on the bulge in his underwear. The view alone made Misha half hard. But this wasn't right. He didn't exactly remember the previous night but he was at least 90% sure that nothing had happened. He left the bed as quietly as possible and found his boxers and pants on the floor. Okay, he was still at least 80% sure that nothing had happened, _except that_. He was still wearing his t-shirt though, that must be a good sign, right? He tried to sneak out of the room but the door made a high pitched noise and Jensen opened his eyes. He looked confused and lifted one hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. 

“What are you doing, Mish?”  
“Jensen, I…” This was worse than he’d ever imagined. Jensen seemed to realize what he was doing and Misha was sure that the look on his face could make even the most bloodthirsty mass murderer break down and cry.  
“I need to go, you know that.”  
Jensen didn't answer.  
“Just call your wife, okay? And then we can talk.” Misha left the room because he knew that if he was going to leave it was now or never. He found his boots somewhere along the way and was busy putting them on when Jensen came out of the bedroom.  
“No.”  
“Excuse me?” Misha wasn’t sure if the hangover made him slow or if Jensen simply didn’t made any sense.  
“I’m not going to call her.” Jensen had a look on his face that Misha had never seen before. Ever. And he was the Jensen-facial-expression-expert after all.  
“Okay, and why is that, if I may ask?”  
“I’m really fucking sick of this.” His voice was shaking with anger and he looked absolutely furious, actually a lot more like Dean than himself. Jensen closed the distance between them and Misha backed up against the door. Misha didn’t really know if he should get angry too (because to be honest, he wasn’t the only one messing this friendship up and what the hell did he ever do to deserve this?) but a part of him wanted to laugh too, the Dean-side of Jensen always made him kinda giggly and he had never been good at dealing with being yelled at. It was like a reflex to him – he had to laugh or at least push the limits a little bit further. And frankly, seeing Jensen like this also did turn him on a little. The fact that he still wasn't wearing anything more than his underwear didn't help him at all. Misha wanted to say something smartass but when Jensen took the last step forward, pushed him against the door and pinned him against it with his body, Misha lost the ability to breathe again. He shouldn’t be turned on by this but he really was. And when he didn’t answer, Jensen continued talking.  
“I’m so done with wishing, Misha. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.” His voice was more like a growl and his face was so close that Misha could feel Jensen’s breath. He was breathing hard but slowly, like he was trying to calm himself down. And if looks could kill, Misha would have been knocking on the gates to hell by now. Misha’s own breath, on the other hand, became rapid and suddenly his jeans was too tight for this shit.  
  
"I've told you all this time, it can't happen." Misha was surprised by how calm and steady his voice sounded, but it was probably a good thing that it didn't reflect how everything inside him was screaming in a chaos of a thousand different feelings.  
"Then leave." Jensen stepped back but Misha didn't move.  
"What are you waiting for? Go!" Jensen's voice became loader and more and more unsteady for every word he said, and when Misha still didn't show any intention to move and just continued to stare at him, Jensen grabbed his shoulders and pushed him. It wasn't that harsh, really, but Misha wasn't prepared and it made him lose his balance for a second. Jensen opened the door, gripped Misha's arm and dragged him out to the stairwell.  
"Jensen..." Misha was going to yell, or explain, or anything, but before he had decided on which side of his brain he should listen to, Jensen slammed the door and locked it. 

The rest of that weekend was a mess and Misha felt like the world’s greatest asshole. He was pretty sure that he had a special place reserved in hell for this, right underneath Hitler and the guy who invented nuclear weapons. And going to work that next Monday wasn’t exactly unicorns and rainbows either. 

Jensen ignored him completely and Misha couldn’t blame him. He managed to survive the first couple of hours and when they were told to take a lunch break, Jensen quickly made some excuse and disappeared into his trailer. Misha considered it something like a suicide-mission but he went to knock on the door anyway.


End file.
